menu_book Chapter 24

CHAPTER XXIV of TILDA JANES ORPHANS. TILDA JANES ORPHANS by MARSHAL SONDERS. CHAPTER XXIV. PURLETTA MAKES AN EXPLANATION. During the next week, Hank watched Purletta as a cat watches a mouse, but with such discretion and such apparent unconcern that the girl never dreamed her every action was under the

He was able to play the part of a detective with great ease, for his holidays were not over, and his interest in the progress of the new house was a reasonable excuse for his spending so much time in and about his barn home. At the end of a week, he and Tilda Jane again found themselves by the river one morning after breakfast. The same little company was reunited there. Milkweed was browsing fitfully, Poacher and the dogs were

having a game of tag, while cousin Una, greatly improved in health, was making short, scampering excursions into the long grass bordering the path, and, excited by the tickling of the green blades, was coming rushing back to Tilda Jane and playfully laying hold of her skirt with her white teeth, as if to urge her to have a game of chase with her. Tilda Jane, however, gave her but scant attention, for she was listening with all her ears to Hank

who was speaking rapidly and earnestly. Sissy, my report's already. Perletta is a new girl. Something has happened to lift her out of her queer state of fighting everybody for what she used to call her rights. The chips off her shoulder, but how it's been knocked off, I don't know. She's at rest in her mind and feels she's as big as anyone. I expect, as I said last week, that someone

has left her money. I've gone to town after her and I've seen her go into Mr. Whiting's office three times. She don't stay long, but long enough, for an interview. Now he wouldn't be bothered talking to her unless there was something to talk about. He's doing business for her. That's what it is. And the business has smoothed out some of the wrinkles in her character. You find her a heap easier to get on with, don't you?

She's as smooth as silk right now, said Tilda Jane enthusiastically, and she don't growl at all hardly. She's taken a shine to you, Sissy, but there's one thing I don't like. Either through being dreamy and thinking about what's happened to her or feeling she's above it, I notice you have the heft of the work. Now that's got to stop. School has closed and you're having holidays, but still I ain't willing to keep a dog and bark myself. I was

going to speak to Perletta about her breach of contract this morning, but just now she asked me if she could have a talk with me, and I told her to come down here by the river, because she said she didn't want Dad to hear. Now you stay when she comes. I don't want to talk to her alone. Hissed. There she is on the bank. Here, talk about Una. Don't let her think we've been going over her. Good doggy. And he bent down and tried to

caress the shrinking pup who drew back from him and braced herself against Tilda Jane. Poor little Una. Poor girl, said Tilda Jane gently. Is she a scared young goosey? How she dotes on you, said Hank in a clear voice. Then lifting his head he said, Come on down, Perletta. Most of the family's here. The big girl came awkwardly and solemnly down the bank and stood before them, her red hands hanging at her sides. Her eyes were fixed

on Tilda Jane, but Hank said commandingly, Don't mind her, speak out. I ain't got no secrets from Sissy. Perletta smiled peculiarly. I've got nothing to say but what will sound sweet to her ears, but Tilda Jane ain't bold. It makes her scrunch up to praise her to her face. The little girl blushed shame-facedly and hung her head while Hank said brusquely, No need of praise. Cut it out. Now, what do you want to say to me? I want to say this,

sir, Perletta began ponderously and with a certain kind of dignity. I ain't a poor girl no longer. I be a real lady. Oh, be you, said Hank gravely. I'm proud to hear it. And being a lady, I suppose you'll always act like one. I'll act the lady to them as treats me like the lady, replied Perletta. And I'll fight them as don't. And being a lady, I don't need to go out to service no more. I gives you warning. I want to know, exclaimed Hank.

However, he added stoically, I guess we'll bear up under it. Now, would you mind giving us some information about the transformation scene that has made you out of a woman into a lady? I don't know nothing about seeing transfers, said Perletta with ill-concealed rapture. But I be what they call an airless. Airless, repeated Hank surveying her fuzzy pate. I should call you, on the contrary, main hairy. I'm an airless, she continued,

in a state of grave happiness, too deep to be upset by his frivolity. And I've walked dead into a fortan. Do tell, said Hank. We've got it now, our old friend money, which is the root of all evil. So you're an airless, and you've come into a fortune? Yes, sir. And how much is your fortune? Nine hundred dollars. She paused an instant, and Hank, with a glance at Tilda Jane, said with real feeling, I say, Perletta, that's fine. Tilda

and I are glad, aren't we, sissy? Glad? Oh, so glad, said the little girl, classically grasping her hands. Now you'll put that in the bank, Perletta, and keep it till your old days come. Maybe you'd better wait till I've had time to say what I've begun, remarked Perletta with preternatural gravity. It's nine hundred dollars a year. Hank stared at her, at Tilda Jane, at the dogs and the pigs, and then turned his head and gazed at Milkweed,

who had come to join in the family conclave, and had thrust her velvety nose sociably over his shoulder. Do I hear a right? he asked, or do my ears deceive me? Have you, Perletta Garrabee, come into an annuity of nine hundred dollars a year? That's what they call it, she said emphatically, whiting in company and others. It's mine till death us do part, nine hundred, even, dollars by year, to do what I likes with, to chuck it in that river,

or to give it to the boys there. And she indicated the pigs who had left their play to wallow again in the mud. And who is your benefactor? asked Hank, staggering back to lean against Milkweed in pretended weakness. Do you mean the man is gov'r to me? Yes, hurry up and tell us. This is more funny than a story book. Twas an uncle, brother to my father. He were a doctor. Who was, your father? Yes, sir. He were a fine, smart man when young. Then

he took to pass in the bottle, and when he was older, he married my mother, who were in the house where he boarded. She had no learning, but she were good, till he taught her to pass the bottle too. His folks was shamed to own him, but when this old man, you mean your uncle? Yes, my uncle. Before he came to die, he thinks of me, cause he knowed his brother had one child. He tracked me through the asylum. Then he wrote to old

man Whiting, and old man Whiting, he went on to Kennedy, where my uncle was a patient attorney. A what? interrupted Hank. Patient slicers. Then, here it is, wrote, and she drew out her well stuffed purse and exhibited a newspaper clipping tucked among the bills. Patent solicitors, Hank read aloud, or attorneys, as you were trying to call them. Garrabee and son. The old established firm, head office, Toronto. Branches in Montreal, Winnipeg, Vancouver,

and Washington D.C. Seems to me I've heard of them. You don't mean to say you're a niece of the head of that firm. He's dead, she said solemnly. Him that was my uncle. Old man Whiting saw him fussed though, and he told him what Mr. Wathesmith and Mr. Tracy said about you and Tilda Jane and Grandpa and me. But what have we to do with it? asked Hank in amazement. Him that was my uncle wanted to know where I was, what I was, who might

be my friends. Old man Whiting says he'd give good account of us all, and my uncle he says, if my niece be what you say she be, she'll not have need for much. She'd better bide with the good folks that had her, and I'll leave enough to keep her comfortable. Hank, for once in his life, had nothing to say. He was turning over this new surprise of fortune in his mind, but raised his head when Perletta went on. I have a cousin. Old man Whiting

says he's a boss-looking man, as straight as a Kennebuck pine, but he's got a wife and youngins, and he says he loathes I'd fit in better here nor there. Hank surveyed Perletta from head to foot. Evidently her uncle had been a rich man. His son would have had all the advantages that wealth and culture could bestow. Small wonder that he wished to keep the ignorant, uncouth relative at a distance from him, and yet Hank resented his attitude.

Great relatives, he said aloud. I guess you're well rid of them. Perletta hunched her broad back significantly. I ain't such as a bee, she said, with more penetration than Hank would have given her credit for possessing. A great wave of compassion swept over him. The unfortunate girl inspired him with infinitely more pity now that he understood she realized the difference between herself and more favored persons. Don't you fret, he said consolingly.

You've got good friends here. You don't need to go to Canada. Tilda Jane's face was glowing with admiration and affection, and seizing Perletta's hand, she pressed it warmly. You ain't hard, Perletta. You've got lots of soft spots, and I'm never going to get touchy with you again, and I guess I'll stand by you even if you lose that money. I'm breathing easy now I know about it. It's like as if old Mount Kataden had been lifted from my

chest. The big girl looked down at the smaller one clinging to her hand. You're just as tickled as I have that money as if you had it yourself, she said shrewdly. He ain't, and she nodded her head toward Hank. He'd rather you'd had it. This statement was so true that Hank did not take the pains to deny it. Well, continued Perletta, I'd come here to talk business. I want to know, as my uncle said, and as I think's myself, if you'll let

me go on living with you not as hired help but as a boarder. Hank, for a minute, was slightly confused and began to run over possibilities in his mind. I ain't going to work no more, Perletta went on. I be going to study. Mr. Weismith, he said he had an idea of someone to learn me. Mr. Weismith, ejaculated Hank, have you been to him? I have. You until today runs to him with troubles. Why not me? This question was unanswerable, and Hank put one

in his turn. Did he treat you well, Perletta? As soft and as easy as grease. I told him my worries and my joys like he was my paw. Hank turned around, made a face at Milkweed, who was leaning her head too heavily on his shoulder, then once more directed his attention to Perletta, who was giving further information in a sing-song voice. Says I to him, says I, sir, I'm bent on staying with them folks, and then there's the boys. He asked me what

boys, and I told him all about Dodge and Grappler, and that it would be main hard to get bored for two pigs and a lady anywhere but here. He said that was so. Said I'd better bide here and you could get another girl to be hired help. Why ain't he cute, observed Hank, to take such an interest in you. He told me to pay good board, cause Borders was a bother, and he said I'd better have you plan a tasty room in the new house for me where I can sit

and read. Hank looked incredulous. Did Mr. Weissmith say all that? Most of it, replied Perletta solemnly. In course I told him my I.D.s, and he bowed his head, and he arsed me to call again. Hank began to laugh. Perletta, you and Mr. Weissmith ain't got exactly the idea of a lady. L-A-D-Y don't spell lazy bones. Ladies have to be lazy bones. She has white hands, Perletta observed seriously. I lay out to have mine as pale as milk, and

she stretched out her two red brawny paws as she spoke. But white hands alone don't make a lady, said Hank, impatiently. A lady might shine stoves from morning till night, and day in and day out for a month, till her hands was as black as the lead, but still she'd be a lady. A dead lady, said Perletta, owlishly. Shine and stoves always lays me out. You can't make ladies, vociferated Hank. That is, you can't make them in the way you're

planning to do it. You're mixing up laziness with your idea of what's proper. You mustn't give up work, Perletta. You'd not be contented. Do you plan for me to board and work too? she asked suspiciously. No, no, you don't grasp my idea at all. I was a tom-noddy to try to make you grasp it. You'll have to grow into it. In course, I'll take care of the boys, she said uncomprehendingly, and with a glance toward her wallowing pets. But listen,

now, I don't count on no housework. Don't you suppose that I know boarders don't do housework? asked Hank shortly. I was only trying to get some of your buzzy ideas out of your head. And I eat at your table, said Perletta warningly. Hank broke into sudden laughter. You're mightily afraid of kitchen boarding. You want to make sure of the parlor. And when can I begin to board? she asked eagerly. The first minute you see a bite of anything

to eat, replied Hank explosively. Oh, my, give me a minute to laugh. This is the creamiest thing I ever heard of. Perletta gazed at him benevolently. I'm awful pleased you're willing for me to stay and sit down with you and eat, she said. I was feared you'd kick. Hold on, said Hank. There's Dad, my soul. I don't know what he'll say about having you in the family. He don't set much store by me, said Perletta dejectedly. Can you make him give in? I'll

try, said Hank. Cause Mr. Waysmith loathe there was lots of folks would try to fool my money out of me, but all of ye's wouldn't. I tell you what, Perletta, said Hank with mock gravity. Some fellow will be shining up to you proposing marriage for the sake of that $900. I wouldn't talk about it if I were you. I ain't told no one but the melongons and the comeas and the LeBlancs and the Thibodos, she replied. Hank groaned. Oh, well, I guess

it don't matter. We'll try to keep you out of scrapes. And I ain't likely to marry no one, she said seriously, cause you'd be the only one that I'd have and you wouldn't have me if I was worth $900 a minute. Hank was once more overcome and speechless. Flabbergasted. He choked in his throat and he gazed at his admirer with a gaping mouth. You can shut your mouth, she said sarcastically, and quit being scared for I don't know that I'd have

you, if you wallied in the mud, order me like those pigs. Men is pigs anyway. You pretend to be so awful fond of Tilda Jane and your allies ordering her around. Tilda, do this and Tilda, do that. Tilda, come for a ride. Tilda, come for a walk. Ain't her young legs tired when she runs and waits on you? Yes, men is hogs, I say, and I prefer my hogs right down on the ground where they belong and where I can drive them instead of their driving

me. Old maids can do as they likes. There ain't no man with a stick over them. The harder a man says he likes a woman, the harder he bosses her. I ain't a-going to be no slave. I be an old bachelor ladymaid now. I selfish spluttered Hank, finding his voice at last. I impose on Tilda Jane? You bet you do and I'm thinking of adopting her, continued Perletta grandly. Once she wanted to adopt me and you wouldn't let her, I guess. Now,

I'm a-going to adopt her. I've spoke of it to Mr. Weismanth and to old man Whiting and they said all right if she was willing. Papers could be made out. I'd like her to be me little sister. Tilda Jane, in a rapture at Perletta's thought of her, again seized her by the hand. The big girl put one of her own hands on her head and with a smile that was ennobling and touching said softly. The other night she crept in my room. She knowed I'd had money

somehow. Mind you, she didn't know but what I'd stole it, said she. Perletta, I've tucked away a few dollars. You can have it if you want to buy anything. Tears was in her eyes and she kissed me, added Perletta in a lower voice. She kissed me and there ain't no one done that since my mother died. Hank gave himself an impatient shake and turned away. A new spirit had certainly come over Perletta. She was really quite affecting and drawing

out his handkerchief, he blew his nose violently several times but she was speaking to him now and he must turn round. Can I adopt the only person in the world that thinks anything of me? She was saying softly to him. No, Perletta, he replied mildly, not with my consent. Tilda Jane is my adopted sister. You ain't had no papers made out, said Perletta eagerly. I'd have writings. No, I've no papers, said Hank, and it ain't because I don't approve of

having things binding. If I was a man with money to settle on her, I'd have papers of adoption made out pretty quick. But suppose my health fails or I was to marry some witch of a thing that would chase Sissy uphill and down dale. I wouldn't want her to feel bound to stay, though as long as I have health and strength and am wise enough to remain single, I want Sissy with me. I thought you wasn't going to marry, remarked Perletta disdainfully.

Neither I am if I can help it, I tell you. I ain't got no more idea of marrying and no more wish for it than those pigs have. But I've traveled. I've seen women sharp enough to catch even me, will I or nill I. Now, I'm doing my best to keep out of their way, but suppose one of them laid eyes on me. Where would I be and where would Sissy be? Then you refuse us to adopt Sissy, cause you're scared some woman might catch you.

Precisely, and I don't want you to adopt her for the same reason. There's fellows cute enough to trap you, Perletta, and suppose you married one and Tilda was in your house and he wanted to get rid of her. No, we'll leave things at loose ends and Sissy can stay where she's got the pleasantest outfit. Ain't there no good men and no good woman near Kikoset? inquired Perletta, rolling her small eyes round the horizon. Heaps of them. Hank hasten

to assure her, but they don't go hunting like the foxy ones. I'd hate to be lugged off from my comfortable home. Ain't marriage the best thing that can happen to man or woman? asked Perletta gravely. Course it is. I'll get married some day. It's the right thing to do, but no man wants to be driven to it before he's ready. My time ain't come yet. Perletta turned from him as if wearied by the conversation and directed her attention

to Tilda Jane, who stood breathlessly listening to them. Suddenly a new thought penetrated Perletta's thick pate and her eyes twinkled. Suppose little Sissy married herself, she suggested, and her husband wouldn't let you and me live along with her. The expression of Tilda Jane's face and the novelty of this idea so amused Hank in his present excited state, that he went off into one of his gales of laughter. Sissy, marry! he cried, stamping

up and down on the grass. Oh, my bones and body, what a drollery! Bless her heart and soul, wouldn't she chivvy a man about? Wouldn't she drag him and make him stand around? Oh, hold me, someone, or I'll explode. You great calf, ejaculated Perletta, half admiring and half contemptuously. Great calf, yes, echoed Hank. I feel young, most in my cradle. I, the rest of the sentence, was never uttered. In his fit of merriment he had propelled his

fat frame too near the edge of the bank, and suddenly he lost his balance and went over backwards, splash into the river. The girls screamed and Una ran yelping back to the river. The girls ran to the house, while Milkweed, the pigs and poacher, always ready to join in family joy or affliction, hastened to the spot. The gallant poacher sprang in after him, but the pigs, in concern at seeing him in their favorite wallowing place, advanced

to snout him out of it. Perletta and Tilda Jane, in anxiety and excitement, waded in their knees, then retreated shriekingly as Hank struggled to his feet and stood with his arms extended, his whole body dripping with muddy water. Step by step he groped his way to the bank, the girls walking backwards before him. Oh, look at his poor head, cried Tilda Jane, all plastered with black mud and that dreadful water poured over his head.

Screaming from his face, Hank, come this way till I wipe you off. Hank's plunge into the river had not washed the nonsense out of him. He was still laughing convulsively and making lunges and plunges at the two girls. He drove them in hysterical agitation up the bank and across the road towards the house. Grandpa, in rather a bad temper at having been left alone, a rather rare occurrence, was coming out of the yard with Handy Andy. They were

going to take a walk, but hearing the confusion by the river, stopped to see what it meant. First came Perletta and Tilda Jane running and looking over their shoulders and emitting squeals and giggles of perturbation. Behind them groped and staggered a strange figure with muddy dripping arms escorted by Poacher and the pigs. Occasionally the strange figure would make a run, then would fall into a walk. Grandpa stared in amazement. Handy Andy timidly

approached the curious figure to see what it was. It paused on seeing him, allowed him to sniff his way quite near. Then with a watery shout, leaving the girl in a daze. He peeped forward at him and brandished two waving arms. Poor Andy did not stop to see whose arms they were. With one loud squeal of fright and perplexity, he ran to shelter himself behind Grandpa's legs. Grandpa had some time before he recognized the sloppy

figure and he cried irritably, What have you been doing with yourself, sir? You look as if you had been playing with the pigs. You had better get into the barn. I didn't chuck myself in the river on purpose, sir, called Hank in a conciliatory way. Twas an accident and a bit of harmless fun ain't as bad as rolling home drunk at night. You dare to drink, said Grandpa wrathfully. Just let me catch you at it. And precipitately wheeling around,

he hobbled down the road. But fast as he went, he was out distanced by the nimble and terrified Andy. Hank ambled into the yard, saluted the amused masons at work on the cellar, then mounted to his, What have you been doing with yourself, sir? own part of the hayloft, calling gaily to Tilda Jane, Second best suit of clothes ruined, sissy, but I've had enough fun to make up for their loss. End of chapter 24.